Road Trip - Chapter Twenty

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[finally I've updated! Get your votes and your comments ready cause we're going to serious town!]




(Derek's Point Of View)

I . . . was being released.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't complaining. Life behind these walls had been dull and uneventful ever since Sasha got released. He and I became pretty close for the three weeks we got to know each other, but once he was gone . . . it was as if I became deaf. It was quiet. My new roommate had barely spoken a sentence to me and I couldn't befriend anybody else in here no matter how hard I tried.

The first week was tough on me, but after that I stopped wondering and asking when I was going to be released, and focused more on what I was going to have for dinner. But now after a month it was finally happening.

Last time I talked to Dr. Vestine was yesterday. Nothing had changed minus the dose of my medicine.

I waited on my bed with a brown bag full of my things. I counted the time in my head, waiting for a nurse to come get me and tell me it was time. No one showed up for the longest time. Or so it seemed that way. I zoned out, staring at the walls and listening to the sound of music playing down the hall.

When someone did show up, they had to call my name multiple times to snap me out of the zone. I blinked and rubbed my eyes, feeling overwhelmingly tired all of the sudden. The nurse helped me up and led me out of the room, down the halls and to the front desk, just outside the big doors that led to freedom.

"I'm gonna miss you a bunch!" said one of the nurses. "And we better not see you come back. Be good, okay?"

I nodded slowly.

When the doors opened, a man in black was standing just outside with his back facing me. I was so confused with the stranger that one of the nurses had to gently push me forward. I almost tripped and held my bag tightly as the stranger turned around. He was tall. So tall his head could touch the ceiling if he jumped.

"Derek Morrigan?" he said, his monster deep voice sending chills down my spine and waking me up a bit.

"Yeah?"

"Come with me," he said and started moving towards the elevators.

"Am I in trouble or something?" I asked.

The stranger didn't respond. It wasn't that he didn't hear me either because I was standing just behind him and there was no one else around. He chose to ignore me and not answer my question. Maybe I was in trouble. But what did I do? Could it be because of the drugs I took? He didn't look like a cop, more like . . . a bodyguard.

The elevator dinged and opened. I marched in after him and decided to look up at him as we descended floors. He was so tall my neck was hurting looking at him. If he wasn't going to tell me anything then I was going to make him feel uncomfortable.

Oh, God.

What if . . . What if he was with the FBI? Don't they look like that? All mysterious with their suits and everything.

Mentally, I sighed. I was being arrested. Why else was I being released so abruptly? I wasn't even making progress in this place. I had become increasingly worse. They had given me so much medication that I felt drugged all day long and just wanted to sleep most of the time.

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